


Taken Kneeling

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Star Trek Bingo 2020 [16]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Boot Worship, Cock Warming, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dom!Data, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kneeling, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, sub!Tasha, they couldnt make it two episodes without letting us know he fucked, why do people think data is so naive about sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:01:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25848472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Data has a reputation for being innocent when it comes to sex. Tasha knows better. A lot better.
Relationships: Data/Tasha Yar
Series: Star Trek Bingo 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875274
Comments: 3
Kudos: 36
Collections: Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020





	Taken Kneeling

**Author's Note:**

> For the bingo prompt "collars/chains." There are no chains in the fic, sorry, but I do love giving Tasha the opportunity to sub. She deserves to be given nice things. 
> 
> Title is from the famous Oscar Wilde quote (because I am not original): "Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling."

Tasha knew that Data had a…particular reputation amongst the crew. That was alright by her; she had her own reputation to contend with, and all it really meant was that people were all too inclined to gossip about things that were really none of their business. Things that, quite frankly, they knew approximately jack shit about. Tasha wasn’t stupid. She knew that Data often came across as naïve, even to people who knew him well. His human social skills weren’t as advanced as even he wanted them to be. He could pull words Tasha had never even heard of out of seemingly nowhere, but everyday figures of speech sometimes eluded him. He couldn’t always parse the nuances of social situations, and even though Tasha knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Data felt incredibly deeply, he still struggled with interpreting and expressing basic emotion in a way that most people could understand. In the time she’d known him, and even more so in the time they’d been together, Tasha had seen him learn and grow so much, in a way that made her heart flip and affection warm her chest. But the reputation remained.

The funny thing was, Tasha had no idea why it had gotten fixated on sex.

Of course, Tasha knew she had an unfair advantage in that department. She’d learned early on just how extensive Data’s sexual knowledge was, even if thinking about it made her stomach tie itself in knots. She hummed, softly to herself, pushing it from her mind, and felt a comforting hand reach down to stroke her hair in response to the sound. She closed her eyes and took a moment to just breathe, until her body had settled again. Data’s sexual programming was _extensive_ ; she might have thought he was bragging that night – or, maybe not bragging, but overestimating his abilities – but she had been dead wrong. Data knew a _lot_ about sex. And he was amazingly good at it. Tasha had no idea why Data’s creator had been so thorough with that particular set of programming, but she had to admit, it was greatly appreciated.

She was pretty sure most people had no idea that Data had ever had sex at all. The captain had to know, and Commander Riker. She knew, and had made peace with the fact, that Data had (reluctantly, and that knowledge eased her discomfort greatly) admitted to their brief sexual intimacy when he’d been on trial. Of course, that had been before their relationship, which meant the few people who did definitively know were also likely to assume that it had only occurred under the influence of the intoxication virus. The question was bound to come up when their relationship was made public, but Tasha wasn’t quite ready for that step yet. Everything felt too new, too private, and Tasha couldn’t help feeling that to admit it would be to have something precious snatched from her fingertips.

That didn’t make it any easier to keep from speaking up. Data’s sexual programming would put even Riker’s extensive knowledge of the act to shame – after all, Data’s extended not just to a variety of even some more obscure human practices, but some of other races as well – and it certainly wasn’t as if Data was unpracticed, even if Riker had had more partners on the whole. A floaty feeling drifted through Tasha, and she smiled as best she could with her mouth full. Warmth washed over her, but it wasn’t an urgent sort of heat, her body pulsing lazily in time with the pulse on her tongue.

There’d been a moment at poker night, recently, where Tasha had almost said something. Doctor Crusher, of all people, had made a harmless inuendo, directed towards Commander Riker, and Tasha had watched Data’s head tilt, his brow furrowing. It wasn’t because he hadn’t understood – Tasha had made that exact joke with Data at least once, and he’d grasped it just fine then – and when he’d questioning it aloud, it had become obvious that the _context_ was what confused him: it was a flirtation, and, reasonably in Tasha’s mind, he hadn’t quite understood why it was being used among friends rather than intended partners. But Riker had misinterpreted his question, grinning and waving it off with a “you’ll understand in time, my friend” before placing his bet, the conversation moving on before Data could clear up the misunderstanding. Under the table where no one could see, Data’s hand had been placed possessively on Tasha’s thigh (at her request). She’d covered it and given it a squeeze of acknowledgment. Data’s eyes had flicked to her, and he’d let it go. Later, Tasha had explained the context, how between some friends a little inuendo could be fun, if used correctly. And then she’d used a little inuendo of her own, and had been put right to her knees.

That was where she was now: a different day, and in Data’s quarters instead of her own, but the position was the same. She sat low on her heels, a cushion beneath her knees and the top of her head just brushing the cool underside of Data’s desk, the space dark and cozy and comforting in a way that Tasha had long associated with safety, even before this part of their relationship had begun. Data’s legs were parted, Tasha tucked between them, his cock pulled out from his uniform pants, soft between her lips and heavy on her tongue. She hummed softly around it again, the vibrations making him twitch in her mouth, prompting another lazy smile from her. His hand drifted down again, stroking her hair briefly before hooking two fingers into the collar, snug at her throat, and pulling it a little tighter, the pressure a welcome weight against her skin. She could still hear him typing away at some report with the other hand, but that was alright. That was part of the point.

When she and Data had first started having sex – for real, not just under the influence of roofie viruses – it had been almost achingly tentative. Oh, it had been good, better than Tasha had expected, but it had been full of questions of ‘how far can we go’ and ‘is this alright’ and the knowledge that, given Tasha’s history, there was a very real chance that even mundane sex acts might have been beyond her comfort zone. Data didn’t want to push her, and Tasha didn’t want to ruin a good thing, so they’d kept it simple. Soft touches, little talking. Almost no penetration of any kind. They’d been careful.

Careful, they’d discovered, was unnecessary.

They’d figured it out almost on accident. It had been a heavy mission, and Data had been a little distracted and Tasha a little impatient, and the resulting sex had left bruises on her hips and an amazing _used_ feeling in her cunt. Tasha had never thought feeling used could feel good before – for good reason – but things were different with Data, and she’d gotten herself off for _days_ afterwards at the memory of Data’s hips pounding into her, the little groans spilling from his throat when she’d made him come inside her, filling her up and dripping out. She’d _loved_ it.

Before Tasha, Data had a working, if only theorical, understanding of BDSM and other kink practices. Tasha might not have had the words to describe what she wanted, but she’d had the human instincts, and when she’d brought it to him, nervous about what he’d think, Data had surprised her by supplying not only the technical knowledge, but a willingness to learn, to figure out what they liked together. And the fact was, whatever had happened in the past, Tasha _liked_ sex. And she liked it often and in a variety of ways that she suspected, with a secret, personal pleasure, might put even Will Riker to shame. So they’d stopped being careful – although they had maintained what Data considered an acceptable level of caution – and started experimenting. It had been almost a surprise to discover that Data actually had preferences when it came to sex. He was willing to try almost anything, but he gravitated to some things significantly more than others. And he seemed absolutely delighted to learn Tasha’s preferences in turn.

And while Tasha liked a lot of things, her preferences were clear. She liked sweet words while Data was rough, liked bruises and bites and her hair pulled, but also petting and pampering and Data’s soft hands stroking all over her body. She liked to be bent over or shoved up against just about any surface she could convince Data to do it on – which, to her delight, seemed to be all of them – and she absolutely loved it when Data called her ‘kitten’ and put her on her knees.

The pet name had come up when they’d first started really experimenting with submission. When Tasha had asked Data if he would consider collaring her. Data had been willing, and they’d worked out safewords and addressal, things they wanted to try and things that were hard limits. Data had been a little uncertain, and he’d questioned some of Tasha’s requests, but he’d accepted her answers without judgement. Tasha had been a little uncertain herself, but she’d been in counseling long enough to have a decent handle on what she actually wanted and what was tied up in survival instincts. Wanting to give Data total control of her body, wanting him to put her on her knees and make her worship him, letting him use her for his own pleasure, was definitively the former. Because she loved Data. She trusted him. And the things that gave Data pleasure were things that Tasha got off on. It didn’t always make sense to her, but Data had pointed out that even scholars of human sexuality still couldn’t always explain why certain fetishes developed. It was enough that they trusted each other, and that they were, always, in this together.

The collar was the key. It changed things. When Tasha laid it out, setting it in front of Data to show him what she wanted, the relationship shifted between them. When Data picked it up, guiding Tasha to her knees and buckling the leather around her throat, they went from lieutenant and commander to something else, like flicking a switch. It made it easy for Tasha to differentiate. Outside, on the bridge, they had their places in the hierarchy of the ship. But in here, in their own private space, the moment Data fastened the collar, pulling just shy of too tight, she became his. And she knew he would take care of her.

Distantly, she registered that the writing had stopped. The two fingers tugged at her collar, easing her off him, and Tasha whined as he slid from her mouth, stark white against the black of his pants, shiny with her spit. Part of her wanted to chase after, to bury herself against his crotch and show him how much she wanted it, but Tasha was a good girl. Obediently, she stayed put.

Data slid his chair back a little, and she looked up into his face. He smiled faintly. “Check in, kitten.”

“Green, sir.”

“Do your knees hurt?”

Tasha hesitated, and Data tightened his grip slightly on her collar, his voice going stern enough to shoot heat straight to Tasha’s core, her whole body shuddering in delight. “Do not lie to me,” he scolded. “Do they hurt?”

“A little.” She had no idea how long she’d been down, her mind drifting, content in the dark. It must have been awhile, given the ache that was starting to spread through her legs.

Data cupped her cheek with his free hand, stroking his thumb against her skin. “Do you wish to come up, now?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you certain? You could sit in my lap until I am finished.”

It was a tempting offer, and Tasha hesitated. Then she shook her head, the gesture tugging slightly at the collar where Data still held it. “I want to stay, sir. Please.”

Data’s smile reappeared, and he traced the curve of the collar with one finger. “I am almost done. Just sit still for me a little longer, kitten. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” Data praised, and Tasha felt her eyelids droop, that lazy smile spilling back across her face as her mind slipped back into a hazier territory. He released her collar, petting briefly at her hair again before picking up a PADD. Tasha tensed, and he looked down at her. She wet her lips, eyes flicking between where his cock hung, tempting and just out of reach, and his face. She blinking pleadingly up at him, biting her lower lip.

Data understood. He slid his chair forward, murmuring “come here” as he cupped his length, still soft, and fed it back into her mouth, letting it rest heavy against her tongue again. Tasha moaned softly in pleasure, swallowing gratefully, and Data squeezed the back on her neck in warning, just above the collar. He released his grip when she settled, her eyes falling shut and her breathing evening out. “My sweet little cockwarmer,” he whispered. “So good for me, kitten.”

This time, Tasha fought the moan. She was going to be good, wasn’t going to suck or swallow or do anything to make Data harden in her throat. She could feel his balls against her chin, knew that if she flicked her tongue she could tease him into hardness, could show him just why he loved her mouth. But no. Good little cockwarmers didn’t do that, and Tasha wanted to be good. If she was good, when Data was done he’d give her a treat. And as much as Tasha liked this, liked being on her knees, in the quiet dark, she knew she’d like the treat even better. So she stayed quiet, listening distantly as Data picked up the PADD again, the rhythmic typing resuming, lulling her back down into the darkness, the only sensations the sweet ache in her knees, the weight on her tongue, and the tight press around her throat, claiming her as his.

She couldn’t be sure how long it was that she sat there. She didn’t have Data’s internal chronometer to judge by. She was aroused, but it was a faraway sensation, a mild heat in her stomach, a slight wetness between her thighs. She took slow, easy breaths through her nose, letting her saliva pool in her mouth, swallowing only when absolutely necessary. Occasionally Data would reach down to pet her, carding his fingers through her hair or tracing her collar or simply hooking his fingers into it and staying there. The touch was all that mattered, and if she hadn’t been so far down it might have startled her when Data pulled away again, a gentle hand on the back of her head encouraging her to follow, to keep him in her mouth as he sat back in his chair, away from the desk.

“All done,” he murmured. “Check in?”

Tasha tapped his thigh twice, their nonverbal cue for “all good.” Her head felt pleasantly fuzzy, and the feeling intensified when Data squeezed her neck lightly again, more a massage than a warning this time, rubbing little circles into the skin just below the collar. “Such a good girl,” Data murmured. “You like this, kitten? Being my little cockwarmer? Just a little toy to hold my cock while I work?”

Tasha moaned an affirmative, and Data made a soft sound of pleasure as his cock twitched on her tongue. “So sweet for me,” Data breathed. “Can you stay on your knees a little longer? Be my good girl just a little longer, for me?”

Another moan, and Data’s cock was filling slowly, plumping on her tongue. “May I use your mouth, kitten?” Data asked. He placed a hand on either side of her face, cradling her cheeks, stroking his thumb over the outline of his hardening cock. “May I fuck it, sweet girl?”

God, Tasha was soaked. She clenched her thighs together, the lack of friction almost maddening, nodding as best she could in Data’s grip. The collar was the best side of too tight, not choking her but _almost_ , her breaths shallow as Data moved her, dragging her up and down on his cock in long, easy strokes. “Such a good girl,” Data said again, more pant in his voice as she swallowed around him, hollowing her cheeks to suck, licking at the head when he pulled her almost all the way off. “Oh, that feels wonderful, kitten. Just perfect.”

Tasha hummed happily, and Data inhaled sharply. His hips twitched, his cock hitting the back of Tasha’s throat, and she gagged slightly. Data pulled her off, petting at her hair, apologetic, but Tasha whined, pushing against his grip, swallowing as much of his cock as he’d let her, and Data groaned.

He eased her off, kicking back the chair as he stood, stance widening, one hand braced against the desk behind her head. Tasha fell back on her heels, mouth falling open on instinct as Data gripped her hair hard, shoving himself down her throat, and Tasha choked, unable to do more than sit back and take it as Data fucked into her mouth, barely giving her enough time to breathe between thrusts until Tasha’s mouth was sloppy with spit, drooling out around his length, moaning as he gagged her with his cock, his hand falling down to grip hard at her collar, keeping her from moving away. But god, nothing could have made Tasha move, could have stopped her from fighting to swallow and suck, every sound she made vibrating through Data’s cock, making it good for him, making him harden even further against her tongue until Data was swearing, the way she’d taught him, the way she loved, his hips still pumping as he swelled and came in bursts down her throat, deep enough that Tasha could barely swallow, filling her mouth with salt, the excess dribbling over her lips and down her chin.

Data’s thrusts slowed gradually, the last few pulses landing on Tasha’s tongue as he pulled back, and Tasha let her lips part, let him slip out, panting as she caught her breath. She licked at her lips, tasting him, heat washing through her at the knowledge that he tasted different than their first time, because he could change it and had done so until Tasha had approved. That was for her.

Data’s thumb swiped against her chin, collecting drops of his cum, pushing them into Tasha’s mouth. She sucked on the digit, blinking up at him, and the warmth and affection in Data’s expression almost melted her. She placed a hand on her collar, needing the grounding feeling, the leather warm and smooth under her fingers as she traced the lines burned into the material, little squiggles and dots like a circuit board, custom made just for her.

She almost whined when Data pulled her up off the floor, then hissed as the blood rushed back to her knees. Data sat her on the desk, his hands kneading at the flesh, working the feeling back into them. “Check in?” he asked softly.

Even that sounded loud. Tasha had to blink a few times before the question fully registered. “Green,” she murmured.

“How do you feel?”

“Good. A little floaty. ‘s nice.”

“Would you like to play a little longer?”

“Yes, please.”

She had to be soaked through her panties. Data had to be able to smell it, android olfactory senses being what they were. His fingers pet over her thigh, just shy of her crotch. “Do you want to come, kitten?”

“Whatever you want, sir.” It would be nice. But there was a part of Tasha, a sweet little voice, whispering that it would be alright if she didn’t. She already felt so good.

Data had other ideas. He hooked her collar again, nice and tight, pulling Tasha back to reality just a bit. His voice was kind, but firm. “I want to hear what you want, kitten. Good girls ask nicely for what they want.”

Tasha bit back a keen. She was a good girl. She could be a good girl. “I…”

“Take your time, kitten. There is no rush.”

The desk was cold, hard beneath her hands. Her cunt throbbed, hot and empty. “I want your cock, sir.”

“Where do you want it, kitten?” She could hear mirth in Data’s voice, teasing her. “Do you want it in your mouth again?” His thumb traced over her lip. Tasha’s tongue followed it, and she whined when it was taken away.

“No, sir,” she managed.

“Do you want it in your ass? You like that sometimes. You take it so well for me.”

She did. Tasha hadn’t thought anal was a thing women could even like before she’d tried it with Data, and when she was in the right mood it could be amazing. But she shook her head. “No, sir.”

“You cannot have it until you ask, kitten.” She could still feel Data’s two fingers pressed against her throat, under the collar. It wasn’t choking her, but Tasha still felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

Shame burned at her cheeks, and she squirmed on the desk. “I…I want to come on your cock. I want you to fuck my cunt until you make me come.”

Data cooed, releasing her collar to stroke a sweat-damp lock of hair back behind her ear. “Oh, kitten, I can do that. Would you like it on the desk? Would you like me to spread you out like one of my reports, to fuck you until you cannot stand?”

“I…” Tasha swallowed hard, her throat tight. She kept her eyes on the floor, her whole body hot and flushed. “I want you to pick me up…” The words came out a whisper, and if Data hadn’t been an android, Tasha doubted he would have caught them at all.

“Oh,” he breathed. “Oh, kitten, of course. Of course we can do that.” He stroked her hair, pressing kisses to her forehead. “Oh, sweet girl, look at you. You like how strong I am? You like knowing that I can hold you, can keep you safe?”

Tasha nodded desperately. Her thighs flexed, and she squirmed again, her head jerking up when Data stepped away, backing up several steps. “…sir?”

He tilted his chin deliberately to the floor, and then lifted it again. “I told you, kitten. Good girls ask nicely.”

Lightning shot through Tasha, and she scrambled to the floor, the thrill shooting up and down her spine and straight between her legs as she dropped into a crawl. He was going to make her beg him. He was going to make her be a good girl for him.

She crawled to him, all sense of shame gone, because this was for him, this was the way good girls asked for what they wanted. She stopped at his feet, his uniform boots shiny. She’d watched him clean them earlier, and now she lowered her head, Data sucking in a sharp breath as she licked a stripe up the synthetic leather. She cleaned them again with her tongue, little kitten licks around the toes alternated with longer strokes up the front and sides, paying special attention to the vee where his pants split in the front over his boots. They’d changed the uniforms recently, no longer a sharp yellow line at the cuff to distinguish the change, and Tasha was sloppy, catching the edge of the pant leg with her tongue, but she doubted Data minded, glancing up at him every so often with big, pleading eyes, looking up at him through her eyelashes as she watched his lips part in awe, his cock rising again, thick and hard, the tip dark ochre and leaking against the bottom of his shirt. She arched her back, ass in the air, pressing kisses to the toes of his boots, her cheek rubbing against the inside of his calf. The collar kept it from being embarrassing; Tasha was floating, a good girl, asking nicely for Data’s cock.

He scooped her up, pressing kisses all over her face, the hand not supporting her petting at her back, her hair, murmuring “kitten” and “good girl” and “perfect” into her skin as Tasha writhed happily against him, his cock pressed hard between her legs, separated only by the clothes she was wearing. She whined, and Data shushed her, affection in his voice as he called her his little slut, so desperate, so eager, so ready to take his cock. She clung to him as he tugged her uniform bottoms off, pretty sure she heard a seam rip but completely uncaring because it meant she could take him, so wet she was dripping down onto him, leaving wet patches barely hidden by the black of his uniform. She wrapped one arm tight around his neck, fumbling her hand between them, trying to grip him, to get him inside, but Data brushed her away. “Let me get it, kitten,” he murmured in her ear, shifting Tasha up a little higher one-handed, completely unconcerned with her weight as he wrapped his fingers around his cock, angling it up just right. Tasha sobbed when it caught against her, burying her face in Data’s neck, completely overwhelmed by the relief of him sliding into her, gravity pulling her body down flush against him, taking every inch.

He held her there, off the ground, Tasha clinging tight to him, tears leaking from her eyes as her body clamped down around his cock, holding him deep inside her. There was a surreal feeling, almost like weightlessness, to the way he held her. As if she was so light that if he let go, she would float. Tasha was distantly aware that she was shaking, fighting to swallow, to breathe, and Data had one hand supporting her, but the other settled on her collar, plucking at it lightly, centering her on that one touch. Bit by bit, Tasha calmed again. Data rocked her carefully, not moving her on his cock but swaying with her, until breathing became easier and Tasha rubbed her cheek against the shoulder of his uniform, closing her eyes.

“There we go,” he murmured. “Such a sweet little cockslut for me, kitten. You wanted it so badly, but you were unprepared to get it. Does it feel good? Do you like how it feels inside you?”

Tasha let a little affirmative murmur slip past her lips. She clenched around Data’s cock, muscles rippling. He made a soft sound of pleasure. “So sweet and wet and warm for me,” he breathed. “Your mouth is sweet, kitten, but your cunt is even sweeter. It takes me so well. Can you feel it? How deep you let me go? How much your body lets me in?”

In the beginning, part of Tasha had expected Data’s dirty talk to sound mechanical. It even had, a little, the first few times. But Tasha suspected that he’d studied something, somewhere, because even though his voice was distinctly Data, during sex it was different, pitched lower, warm and breathy, and the words that dripped from his mouth came so naturally. It made her keen, nodding frantically, squirming a little with the need for him to move.

He held her still, shushing her. “In a minute, kitten. Let me feel you. Will you be a good girl for me? Let me take a minute just to savor how good you feel?”

“Yes, sir,” Tasha breathed.

“Are you my good girl?”

“Yours,” she agreed.

“My what?”

“Your good girl.”

“Yes, you are,” Data praised. “So very good for me. You asked so nicely, I thought I might come right there. But I waited. You want me to come inside you, right kitten? Want me to bounce you on my cock, fill you up with my seed, make you come?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Tasha moaned. She wanted to move, but she had no leverage. Data’s strength was the only power there was. Data shifted her, a little motion that lifted her a fraction, dropping her down again to stab deep inside, and Tasha cried out. He smiled and kissed her hairline.

In her ear, he murmured, “Hold on.”

Tasha shrieked as he moved her, lifting her effortlessly, too impatient to let gravity do the work of fucking her against his cock, bouncing her against him without trouble. Tasha’s head fell back, her mouth open on a wordless cry of pleasure as he pounded into her, her body opening up so eagerly for him, his cock dragging along her walls, her body sparking with pleasure as she clenched around him, begging for harder, faster, _more_.

The tiniest hint of strain colored his voice as he groaned. “ _Yes,_ so good, kitten. _Oh,_ you are perfect, my perfect little cockslut. You love it, a fat cock pounding into you, fucking you open like a pretty little whore. I could keep you like this forever, use you like my personal little fucktoy, keep my cock nice and wet in your cunt. I could do it. You weigh nothing to me, kitten, and you bounce so well on my cock.” He shifted the angle, looking for something, and then Tasha was tipping backwards, yelping as she clung to his neck, but it was alright, because Data’s hand was still at her back, still supporting her as he screwed his hips and stars flashed behind Tasha’s eyes as he drove into her just right. She howled, not unlike a cat in heat, and Data’s eyes lit up, drilling right into that spot, hips snapping hard against her as he dragged her against him again and again, something deep inside Tasha winding tighter and tighter with each plowing thrust.

“Are you close, kitten?” he purred. “I can feel it. Your body gets so tight around me, like it wants to keep me inside. I know you can come from this. Will you do that for me, kitten? Come for me, and I promise I will fill you up just the way you like it.”

Tasha sobbed, her body clamping down hard as she came, spots shining behind her eyes until all she could see was white, all she could hear was Data grunting, all she could feel was something wet and hot splashing inside her, Data fucking her through it as her orgasm triggered his.

The comedown took a long time, although Tasha couldn’t be sure if it was truly long or just felt like it, floating beyond her body for what seemed like ages before she started to become aware of herself again. It started inside her, Data’s hard cock still splitting her open, no longer moving but plugging her up, keeping his cum inside. One of his hands stroked at her back, soothing repetitive patterns, while the other traced around her collar. She could feel his thighs beneath her, and cushion beyond that, and when she finally managed to blink her eyes open, it confirmed the vague thought that he had brought her over to the sofa, cradling her in his arms as she came back to him. Her skin was slick with sweat even though he’d been doing all the work, and he brushed her hair back from her damp forehead, studying her. “Tasha?”

She settled, her cheek against his shoulder, and smiled. “’m good, sir. Still…still green.”

He relaxed minutely. His fingers curled into her collar, holding there. “You were so good for me, kitten. Such a good girl.”

“For you,” she murmured.

“Do you want me to pull out?”

She shook her head. “Stay. Feels good. Want you inside.”

So Data stayed put. He held her until Tasha started to drift up, fully. She grasped his sleeve, clutching the fabric in a mimicry of the touch against her neck. “Data?”

“How do you feel?”

“I’m still good.” Tasha pushed herself upright, slowly. She shifted a little, and Data disengaged his sexuality programming entirely, his cock softening inside her, his cum starting to drip as he slipped out. Tasha clenched on instinct, and Data tipped her back against the sofa, stoking one hand down the full length of her body and then up again, resting on the collar for a moment before he disappeared from her line of sight, reappearing moments later as Tasha felt a hand between her legs, her body reacting instinctively, relaxing as he slipped the plug inside her. It would keep her full until she could get back to her own quarters for a shower. That was the only downfall of doing this at Data’s.

That, and the lack of a bed. Tasha yawned against her will, turning onto her side and snuggling into the sofa, making a soft sound of complaint as Data’s hands coaxed her upright again. He pushed a glass of water into her hands, and Tasha drank automatically, little sips that cooled her down, centering her as much as the collar around her neck. She rested her fingers lightly on the buckle. “Can you…?”

Data unbuckled it for her, setting the collar aside, his fingers rubbing gentle circles where it had rested against her skin. He pressed himself against her side, and Tasha allowed herself to lean on him, knowing he needed the contact as much as she did. “You’re good too, right?” she asked. Data had said – had done – ‘worse’ things to her in more intense sessions, but that didn’t mean she didn’t need to check.

Data nodded. “I am alright.” He kissed her temple. “That was highly enjoyable.”

“I liked it too.” Tasha grinned, nuzzling into Data’s chest. “Thank you for indulging me.”

“As always, it is my pleasure.”

Tasha laughed, and then yawned again. “I think I need a nap.”

“You are welcome to stay here as long as you require.” Data was already pulling a blanket from the back of the sofa, and Tasha sank back into the cushions as Data spread it over her. She threw a hand out as he got up, snagging his wrist. He paused. “Tasha?”

“I love you.”

Data softened. “I am aware.” He picked up her collar, then stroked the backs of his fingers down her cheek before he withdrew, returning to his desk. Tasha smiled and closed her eyes. She didn’t need Data to say it back yet. She knew he cared for her. That much was obvious. And as she’d said before, Data had trouble understanding and expressing emotion. Especially his own. But that was alright. Tasha was more than willing to wait.

And in the meantime, there was definitely one way that Data was _not_ as naïve as everyone thought he was. Deanna would have said, if she’d know, that good (hell, _universe-shattering_ ) sex wasn’t a substitute for emotional intimacy. But as far as Tasha was concerned, they had the emotional intimacy. Data just didn’t know how to voice it yet.

In the meantime, she’d let Data take care of her. In the meantime, she’d take the sex.


End file.
